


Electing Strange Perfections

by halfabreath



Series: after the raven has had his say [2]
Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: M/M, Rarepair, eventual OT4 - Freeform, farm au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-16
Updated: 2017-10-16
Packaged: 2019-01-17 03:51:18
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,828
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12356853
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/halfabreath/pseuds/halfabreath
Summary: Ransom pretends to be upset for the rest of the night but by the time next Saturday rolls around he's prepared for the interaction to come. Sure, Bitty's had to listen to Adam's stats and minute-by-minute recaps of Jack's greatest goals, but after Ransom gets all the gushing out of his system he's prepared for actual human interactions."Are you going to survive this?" Bitty asks on Saturday afternoon as they slowly walk towards the Holtzmann booth.Ransom takes a deep breath and then lets it out, relieved he's managed to remember both parts of the breathing process. "I got this." He says, then repeats it so he'll believe it.





	Electing Strange Perfections

**Author's Note:**

> it's happening. thanks again to @chocolatechipcookiesplease for hashing out this verse and to @the_one_that_fell (alphacrone) for the book covers that made me scream. come hang out at halfabreath.tumblr.com
> 
> title from hozier's "Someone New"

Bitty has a complicated relationship with mornings. He likes beginnings, fresh starts, new opportunities. He's good at starting over - it's the ending that's harder. He knows how to finish some things: tweets, recipes, vlogs, days, pies. Most times, though, the middle gets muddled up and overly complicated until the thought of taking another step towards a conclusion is too overwhelming. When mornings fall in the middle of difficult projects it's difficult to find the energy to get the day started. Today is one of those days.

He can't really complain. The project he's entrenched in is his long awaited cookbook, the one his followers have been clamoring about since his bunny-shaped cinnamon roll video went viral. He has another three weeks before the chapter he's working on is done and he has just a few more recipe variations to test. Unfortunately, each iteration has been more time-consuming and difficult than the last and he's not looking forward to another week of development. Ransom, at least, has all his previous attempts collected in an expansive Excel sheet, complete with "Ease of Consumption," "Stress Generated During Baking," and "Enjoyment Fluctuation" categories.

Bitty never thought baklava would be the death of him, but that's what he gets for straying from his comfort zone. He's tempted to cut the recipe altogether but it's one of the top requests from his fans so he has to stay the course. He can't let them down, now then he owes all his success to their support. There's a weight on his chest just thinking about it - or maybe that's just Ransom, who's currently using Bitty's sternum as a pillow. 

Bitty sweeps his palm over Ransom's broad shoulders, hoping to wake him as gently as possible. They're a few years out from his school-induced panic attacks he'd had when they attended Brown, but his job as the social media coordinator at a PR firm isn't exactly relaxing. He'd fallen asleep in a little ball last night after brainstorming for a pitch meeting he has on Monday and the last thing Bitty wants is to shock him into awareness. 

Ransom stirs beneath his hand and groggily raises his head, blinking up at Bitty slowly. He lets out a bleary groan and drops his head down to Bitty's shoulder, curling around him a little tighter. He mumbles something that might be a morning greeting or a curse - Bitty honestly can't tell - but doesn't go back to sleep. It takes him a while to get his thoughts in order after a period of rest allows him to slip towards mental entropy. Bitty just unlocks his phone and scrolls through Twitter for a while, switching to Instagram when Ransom shifts beside him.

It takes seventeen cake frosting videos but eventually they manage to get up and trudge to the Providence Green Market.

They arrive late in the day but they still manage to find almost everything on their list. Bitty's halfway through a tweet about the peaches he'd snapped too many pictures of after buying them when Ransom stops suddenly.

"Oh _fuck me._ " Ransom gasps. Bitty looks up from his phone in alarm, tweet forgotten, as he follows Ransom's wide-eyed gaze. He's staring down the aisle, directly at the stand from Holtzmann Creamery. It's staffed by two people - The Holtzmenn, as Bitty calls them - both of whom terrify Ransom. Bitty grins.

"I'm going to talk to them," he announces, and manages to take a half step before Ransom wraps an arm around his waist and hoists him back.

"Bitty, no!" Ransom's lifting him off the ground now, holding Bitty as easily as the literal sack of potatoes he has tucked underneath his other arm. "Bro, please, I'll die if you talk to them, I seriously will. That's _Jack Zimmermann and Adam Birkholtz_. Literal junior hockey legends!"

Bitty wiggles in Ransom's grip and manages to slide down until his feet are back on the pavement. "They didn't actually play in the NHL, sweetheart," he says, patting Ransom's arm soothingly. "I'd understand your reaction if Beyonce was over there selling beets, but they're just two guys who almost played hockey." He manages to turn in Ransom's grip, passing his tote bag of produce from one shoulder to the other.

"So? Birkholtz was the best defenseman in the draft before his concussions and Jack's a prodigy! It's in his blood." Ransom's worrying his bottom lip, finally tearing his gaze away to stare down a the pavement.

"I know, sugar, you've told me. But they're selling cheese now and I really want to try it so you have to let me go over and buy some." Bitty reasons. Ransom doesn't let go, though. Sighing, Bitty places his palm on Ransom's side, sweeping over his rips in a slow, soothing motion. The Holtzmenn (Bitty's not sure which one is which yet), unaware of Ransom's crisis, continue with their work. The blonde one hands out samples to the customers gathered around the booth, reserving the last one for his companion, a slightly shorter man with dark hair and floppy bangs. He takes it with a small smile and the taller man hip-checks him gently before turning his attention back to the customers.

It's cute, but it's nothing compared to how the dark haired man looks at his partner when he's not paying attention. He gazes up at him fondly, watching as he charms the customers with a toothy grin and wild gesticulations.

"When did they start dating?" Bitty asks, finally looking back up at Ransom. His boyfriend's grip loosens just enough for him to twist away, but he doesn't go far.

Ransom's lips are turned down in a confused pout; he's adorable when he's confused. "Dating? What?" He asks incredulously. "They're not dating, Bits. God, you're so gay sometimes."

"Justin, we've been dating for three years." Bitty shoots back, hands flying to his hips. Ransom just laughs and reels him in by the strap of his tote bag. He presses a kiss to Bitty's forehead, then turns him so they can both see the booth.

"I'm telling you, they're not dating. Look at them!" Bitty crosses his arms, about to point out how fondly the dark haired one looks at his companion, but now his eyes are narrowed. His handsome face is pulled in a tight frown. The taller one is in the middle of a particularly dramatic eye-roll, and when he finally looks back at the brunette he's wearing a flat, annoyed expression. It's a shocking change, especially given that the time between looks was all of one minute. "They played for rival teams," Ransom explains. "I went to one of their games and they almost came to blows, even though it's super discouraged in Juniors. Seriously, I thought they were going to kill each other."

The customers in front of the Holtzmann booth have wandered away, and Bitty knows now is his chance. "They obviously got over it since they own a business together." Bitty counters. Ransom flounders, making that same cute, confused expression. "You need to get over it, too, because I'm going over there right now." He announces, bolting away before Ransom can stop him. When he turns around his boyfriend is nervously watching him but he's heading over to the antiques booth, no doubt to pretend to read an old book. 

When Bitty reaches the booth the dark haired man is bent over a cooler in the back. Bitty doesn't mean to stare but how is an ass like that even possible? He quickly drops his gaze to the table, quickly reading every cheese name and descriptive card while the heat on his cheeks dissipates. All of the cheese titles are puns or pop culture references but the descriptions are actually informative, listing the details and flavor profiles in a neat, blocky print.

"Any questions?" A deep voice asks. When Bitty looks up the tall blonde man is smiling down at him, big hands settled on his hips. His t-shirt stretches over his broad chest, and seriously, is there some kind of physical attractiveness prerequisite for working at this farm? None of the farmers in Georgia look like this.

"Uh," Bitty squeaks, unprepared for the interaction. Ransom's nerves must have transferred to him somehow. "What kind of milk is in this one?" He asks, pointing to the cheese in front of him. The man's smile broadens and he launches into a description of his cows. After two samples and several anecdotes about a cow named Liz Lemon, Bitty's buying the last of it, already forming a list of recipes he can build around it in his mind. 

The blonde man hums softly as he transfers the cheese to the cutting board. His hands move deftly as he positions it carefully and slices it with a thin wire; it's difficult to imagine him decked out in hockey gear, slamming someone into the boards. Just after he removes the wire the dark haired man appears beside him, entering his space easily. The blonde immediately leans into him, even as he continues with his work. The brunet murmurs something and then hurries away, long legs carrying him to the aisle before the taller man can respond.

"You can't just leave me here!" He calls out, but the other man doesn't turn back. "You see what I have to put up with?" The tall man asks, annoyed expression shifting to a warm smile before Bitty's eyes. They talk for a while, and soon Bitty has his name, some blue cheese, and an invitation for next week. He cuts through the thinning crowd, making his way back to Ransom's side. He slips an arm around his waist, rocking up so his lips are closer to his boyfriend's ear.

"I told Adam you're in love with him." He whispers, laughing joyfully when Ransom lets out a strangled gasp and drops the book. He stares at Adam for a moment before bolting, and Bitty cackles as he follows him.

Ransom pretends to be upset for the rest of the night but by the time next Saturday rolls around he's prepared for the interaction to come. Sure, Bitty's had to listen to Adam's stats and minute-by-minute recaps of Jack's greatest goals, but after Ransom gets all the gushing out of his system he's prepared for actual human interactions.

That's what Ransom's banking on, at least. He'll just be a human person, talking to another human person he happened to idolize for a few years. There’s only, like, a 2% chance of certain death.

"Are you going to survive this?" Bitty asks on Saturday afternoon as they slowly walk towards the Holtzmann booth. "If you get overwhelmed, just bolt and I'll cover for you, I promise." Ransom takes a deep breath and then lets it out, relieved he's managed to remember both parts of the breathing process.

"I got this." He says, then repeats it so he'll believe it. Bitty squeezes his hand and they walk up to the booth together.

Adam's with a customer, nodding along as she describes the research she's done on the dangers of unpasteurized cheese. Ransom stares at him, trying to reconcile the person before him with the larger-than-life figure he's built up in his mind. This guy's still pretty large, though, and Ransom can see the tension he's holding in his shoulders and the way his jaw clenches when the woman's rambling turns to a bacterial outbreak four states over. 

Bitty squeezes his hand and when Ransom turns he comes face to face with Jack Zimmermann. He's wearing a Providence Falconer's baseball cap and a t-shirt with the farm's logo on it, and Ransom's brain has to take a minute to make sense of it all. Luckily Bitty's with him, and Bitty can fill any silence, no matter how awkward or long. He idly hears Bitty chattering away as he slowly process the fact that _he’s about to talk to_ _Jack Zimmermann and Adam Birkholtz._

"So, I'm hoping to find something that will balance well with pistachios, you know?” Is the first thing Ransom hears when he finally manages to tune back in to what Bitty is saying. “Do you have something that's floral but not too overpowering that can withstand baking?" Bitty asks, and Jack’s expression hasn’t changed at all. His brows are drawn together and the anchors of his lips are slipping down but he doesn’t look angry, per se. He looks between them, gaze shifting back and forth, and then his brow unfurls and his lips settle back into a more neutral expression.

"You're Bitty. Adam said you'd come." He says, but ducks beneath the table before either of them can respond. Bitty looks up at him questioningly, but Ransom just shrugs. Jack pops up a moment later, an assortment of jars cradled in his arms. He lays them out neatly, taking his time despite the long silence, and Bitty opens his mouth to say something but Jack cuts in just before he can get the words out. "Do you know anything about crystallized honey?" Jack asks, setting his intense gaze directly on Bitty. Ransom's relieved he gets to be on the periphery of the interaction, and the moment his boyfriend responds, clearly able to hold his own, Ransom lets go of his hand. He doesn't go far; Ransom takes his time as he inspects the cheeses and products spread out over the table, searching for the one Bitty had brought back last week. His fingertips glide idly along the tablecloth-covered edge of the table, sweeping back and forth as he reads the descriptions.

_The One With The Coffee: A sharp, pasteurized, cow's milk cheddar cheese hand rubbed with espresso. Butterscotch and caramel notes, full bodied with a smooth, creamy texture._

_Dumpster Baby: The smelliest of the smelly, funkiest of the funky. Semisoft washed rind cheese with a fruity tang. Cow's milk, pasteurized, and not recommended for first dates._

_Ewe Calf to be Kidding Me: Sheep, goat, and cow milk come together to form a creamy, tangy, nutty blue cheese. Aged 4 months, pasteurized._

_Good God, Lemon: A triple-cream, bloomy rind cheese made with milk from one cow, Liz Lemon. Named for Tina Fey's character in 30 Rock, this cow has it all. Now you, too, can work on your night cheese._

"Let me know if you want to try anything." A voice says, and Ransom almost brushes it off before he realizes who's speaking. He looks up and there's Adam Birkholtz again.

He swallows once, twice, and then blurts out, "Did you really name a cow after a character on a TV show?" Adam laughs, the sound cutting through the background of the crowd surrounding them easily. He reaches for a knife and cuts off a sliver, holding it out for Ransom to take.

"I did, and I'd do it again. Totally worth it." Once Ransom's holding the cheese he slices off a second piece and taps it against Ransom's. "Cheers, dude." He says, and pops it into his mouth. Ransom follows suit, eyes going wide when the cheese settles on his tongue. It melts almost instantly, thick and creamy without being overwhelming. The rind is just mushroomy enough to provide some backbone and the cheese itself is smooth and almost delicately mild. It's perfect. He looks up at Adam in surprise, who's looking at him intently. "Do you like it?" He asks, and all Ransom can do is nod. Adam smiles again, toothy and bright, and after he swallows Ransom matches it.

"Holy shit, dude." He says, and Adam laughs again. "We tried the blue last week and I thought that was good, but this is - damn. Really fucking good."  


"Thanks, bro. I appreciate it, and I'll send Liz Lemon your regards. Do you want to see her?" He asks, and before Ransom can agree he's waving his phone in Ransom's face. Ransom grabs his wrist to steady the screen, taking in the image of Adam sitting peacefully in a pasture, Liz Lemon's huge head resting in his lap. Her eyes are closed but Adam's looking down at her with a small, gentle smile.

"Cute," Ransom says, referring to both subjects of the picture, releasing Adam's wrist. Adam beams down at him and immediately hands him another piece of cheese. "Is this, like, Pavlovian training?" Ransom asks even as he takes the next sample. It's the coffee cheddar now, and the sharp espresso shouldn't work with the salty cheese but it's perfect nevertheless, somehow balanced despite the strong flavors.

"Okay, you got me." Adam admits, leaning over the table. "But honestly, the more I get rid of now the less I have to pack up later, and I have a feeling they'll be there a while." He glances over at their partners. Jack's speaking, blue eyes narrowed and arms crossed, as Bitty examines the label on one of the jars of honey. "Don't worry," Adam says, standing back up to his full height. "He's not mad; that's just his face. I think it's a Canadian thing." Adam shrugs.

"Excuse you, I'm Canadian too and I don't make that face!" Ransom protests, and then Adam's leaning in again to examine his features up close. It's dramatic but Ransom just plays along, turning his chin this way and that like the makeup gurus he's seen on Instagram.

After a long look, Adam leans back. "You kind of are now, bro." He says, and hands over another piece of cheese. Ransom takes it with a shrug; he can't argue with the man giving him free samples. He's chewing on the funkiest cheese he's ever tasted - it must be Dumpster Baby - when Adam speaks again. He's staring down at the cutting board, idly cleaning a knife. "Hey, uh, this is weird, but you're Justin, right? Bitty told me your name last week." Adam glances at him, unsure and strangely vulnerable.

"He did?" Ransom asks, swallowing the cheese down quickly. "Everyone calls me Rans or Ransom, though." He explains. He'd played hockey at Brown and luckily the team had settled on Ransom after a long period of deliberation.

Adam hums and straightens his cutting board before tucking his hands in his pockets. "He said you're a hockey fan. I have a question for you, though." Ransom freezes. This is it. Adam's going to ask why he's so obsessed or if he's been stalking them. Maybe he knows about his old Tumblr. His heart is pounding in his hears as his anxiety, once limited to tests and papers, kicks in, sending his thoughts racing. "Why the fuck hasn't Chris Chow signed anywhere yet?" Adam asks, and Ransom lets out the breath he'd been holding in a relieved gust. The tension drains from his shoulders as he launches into his theory.

Adam's shockingly easy to talk to. They're constantly on the same page, referencing the same articles and recognizing every pop culture reference dropped. They've developed a solid hypothesis that Chow is going to sign with either the Falconers or the Capitals and have eaten almost all the samples by the time Bitty and Jack migrate to their sides. He drapes an arm over Bitty's shoulders, still laughing at Adam's Don Cherry impersonation and Adam leans over to bump his shoulder against Jack's, who actually smiles.

"Bitty! What did you end up with?" Adam asks, sliding his knife through the last bit of Liz Lemon's cheese. He hands one to Bitty and the other to Jack.

"We decided the blueberry-wildflower honey will go best with the pistachios in the recipe I'm working on." Bitty relays before taking a bite. His response is instantaneous: he groans, burying his face in Ransom's shoulder as he process the flavors, clearly enjoying himself. Adam just grins and looks expectantly at Jack, who eats the whole sample in one bite, chewing quickly.

"It's good." Jack says simply. "But it's always good." It doesn't sound like much of a compliment to Ransom, but Adam's cheeks flush red and he smiles down at the table, almost bashful from the praise. They end up buying a piece of the triple cream along with the honey Jack and Bitty had picked out, and when they continue down the aisle to the next booth Ransom feels completely at ease. He takes Bitty's hand and hikes the tote bag higher up on his shoulder, content to walk slowly through the rest of the market until they find what they need.

"I told you it would be fine." Bitty says smugly, tugging on Ransom's hand as they meander through the crowd.

Ransom shakes his head. "No, you told me I could bolt if I wanted." He looks down at Bitty with one perfect eyebrow arched. Bitty just laughs and presses closer.

"Still, it wasn't as bad as you thought it would be. And now you'll agree with me - they're totally dating." He pulls up short at a booth to examine some strawberries, releasing Ransom's hand to turn the cartons back and forth as he searches for the best batch. Ransom scoffs, looking back over the interaction for evidence of romance.

"Just because Adam gave Jack some cheese doesn't mean they're dating. He gave me like, a million samples. By that logic _I'm_ his boyfriend." He reasons, pulling out his phone to take a picture of the berry display. If he happens to snap of few of Bitty's incredulous face, well, that's neither here nor there.  


"You think it comes down to _cheese?_ " Bitty asks. "Did you see how they were in each other's space? How comfortable they were with each other? They're definitely together. I'd bet money on it." He picks up a carton of berries and pays for them quickly, only to hand them to Ransom to carry though the market. He's off to the next stall before Ransom can respond. He follows slowly, taking his time, and lingers by Bitty's side as he examines bunches of spinach. Bitty's engrossed in his task but Ransom scans the market, idly searching for anything else they might need. When his gaze lingers on the Holtzmann booth, and he just manages to catch a glimpse of Adam wrapping an arm around Jack's waist.

It might not mean anything - hockey guys are known to be physical, and they're clearly good friends and - _oh_. Adam's pressing a kiss to Jack's forehead. That might not mean anythi - and now Jack's moving closer to cup Adam's cheek to pull him down for a quick kiss on the lips and yup, mhm, yes, yeah, they're definitely dating. They're dating and out, apparently, and an hour ago the information would have made Ransom's world tilt on its axis but now it just feels right, like the puzzle piece he'd been trying to jam into different ill-fitting configurations has finally slipped into its natural place.

Bitty tugs on the tote bag to slip the spinach inside, and together they make their way through the market and back home, Ransom holding the carton of berries all the way.


End file.
